


Are You Mine?

by phandomsub



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Anal Sex, Car Sex, M/M, Porn With Plot, Student Phil Lester, Teacher Dan Howell, Teacher-Student Relationship, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 19:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12754524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phandomsub/pseuds/phandomsub
Summary: Teaching was never Dan’s dream job, it’s just something he kind of stumbled into, but after working at Greenbrook Secondary for two years he finds himself loving everything about it. Except for maybe the feelings he’s having for one of his students.





	Are You Mine?

Teaching was never Dan’s dream job. As a kid, he had stumbled numbly through the British education system and was spat out the other end with absolutely no clue of what he wanted to do for a career. And, to be honest, he wasn’t overly that fussed about it, either –  until he realised that all his friends were heading off to uni, with goals and ambitions for their future, and that’s when the crippling fear of wasting his life set in. Suddenly, he found himself needing to make a decision. With the voices of his teachers and parents in his ear telling him his passions were just a pipe dream, he tossed up between two conventional career choices – law and teaching. In a quick, panic-fuelled decision he picked teaching, mainly because it was the easier option with both the workload and finding placement with his mediocre GCSEs. University turned out to be a breeze and at his time of graduation the demand for teachers was sky-high, so he had absolutely no issue finding work straight out the doors.

That’s how he finds himself where he is today – in his second year teaching IT at Greenbrook Secondary College. It’s not often that Dan’s split-second decision making results in a positive outcome, but this one turned out to be an exception; he honestly loves it here. Greenbrook is absolutely nothing like his high school was, and for that Dan is grateful. Rather than the overly-pretentious all-boys private school he had suffered through, Greenbrook is a homely public co-ed. Dan wishes his high school experience was even half as good as his time teaching here – the kids actually _love_ his articulate accent, rather than tease him for it, and he’s seen as the _cool teacher_ for wearing skinny jeans, instead of the _emo kid_. Of course, not all the kids are quite as nice to each other as they are to him, but, knowing all too well how it feels, Dan is sure to use his powers of authority for good and put an end to any bullying he sees. Most of the staff are quite a lot older than he is but are still nice to have tea and biscuits with in the break room, and, although he’s twenty-six, Dan still gets on quite well with some of the more mature senior students. Overall, he’s quite content with the people he works around. Except for maybe one.

‘Excuse me, Mr Howell?’

Dan’s eyebrow quirks as he works on disconnecting his laptop screen from the projector casting onto the whiteboard at the front of the room. He’s only just dismissed his upper sixth form students from his presentation on what’s expected of them in their final unit, and he’s surprised to have someone coming to him for help already. They’re an extremely capable bunch and the instructions were pretty clear, but he isn’t about to turn away a student asking for help.

‘What’s up?’ Dan chirps, smiling as he looks up at them, then almost loses it when he sees exactly _who_ it is.

Phil Lester is leaning against the side of his desk, long legs crossed at the ankles and arms across his broad chest. His black hair is styled to an inch of its life, as per usual, and the blue of his new personalised bomber jacket intensifies the vibrancy of his eyes tenfold. Dan hopes the tensing of his muscles isn’t visible.

‘I was wondering if you could help me with something,’ Phil says, that ever-present smirk tugging at his pale lips. ‘I’m having trouble with a compressed file.’

Dan’s anxiety from the sheer closeness of this particular student is put on hold as his forehead creases in confusion. Of all his pupils, Phil is probably the most capable when it comes to IT, so Dan wonders how he could be stumped by something as basic as a compressed file.

‘Really?’ he says, sounding every bit as suspicious as he feels.

‘Yeah, I was hoping you could…unzip it for me,’ Phil says, and Dan doesn’t miss the way he angles the zipper of his slacks towards him.

Dan’s head immediately snaps back down to face his laptop, hoping like hell that the light from its screen washes away the blush on his cheeks. This is _exactly_ what he was afraid of. What Phi’sl said isn’t even that embarrassing – it’s just a stupid pun that he’d laugh shamelessly at if literally anyone else were to say it – but it’s something about those words coming from Phil fucking Lester that makes him flush. The kid can say _anything_ in that sultry voice he adopts so well and Dan will stumble. It’s not like he’s not used to being flirted with – not to toot his own horn, but he gets hit on a _lot_ – and it’s not as if Phil’s the only student who’s tried it with him. Dan’s not an idiot; he knows why the three giggling girls who always sit in the front of the class are there. It’s just, for some bloody reason, Phil’s the only one who can flirt with him and have it actually _work_.

‘Go sit down, Phil,’ Dan says thinly. The cheeky grin he glances on Phil’s face tells him his attempt to sound strict has fallen short.

Dan doesn’t know what it is about Phil that does this to him. Okay, maybe that’s a partial lie. Physically, Dan knows exactly why he finds Phil attractive. He’s got the hair, the smile, the lean body from hours and hours of football practise – not that Dan’s been looking, but sometimes it’s hard not to notice. He’s also got the charm and charisma of a Disney prince and a colossal personality that lies somewhere between _I’m too cool for this_ and _I’ll treat you right if you let me._ Dan’s sure Freud would have a few things to say about it, because those were the _exact_ type of guys he used to lust over at his own high school. Except he’s _not_ lusting over Phil, because Phil is his student and he’s _seventeen_ , for fucks sake.

Dan doesn’t even recall how or when this all began. He’s been teaching Phil since the start of the school year, so he guesses sometime around then. Phil has a tendency to flirt with absolutely anyone – not to the extent of what he does to Dan, but there’s certainly always some level of suggestive banter on his behalf – so perhaps he realised somewhere along the line that it was actually having an effect on his teacher. It started with little looks – wriggled eyebrows and eyes dragging dramatically down Dan’s legs – and then it became little brushes against his arm when he walked past. Now, Dan’s subjected to terrible pick-up lines that somehow aren’t as cringe-worthy when Phil says them. Dan never reciprocates, of course – God no – though he does worry sometimes that he doesn’t do enough to stop it. At the moment, it’s harmless, neither of them are doing anything wrong, but Dan has a bad feeling in his gut that if he doesn’t put his foot down, things will go too far.

 

*****

 

It’s Friday night, it’s fucking freezing, and Dan wonders how the hell he got roped into this. It’s the last football game of the season – Greenbrook versus Norwood, their rival school – and Dan doesn’t even care about _real_ football, yet he’s still wound up spending his precious off-work hours watching a bunch of angsty teenagers play it. The games move from school to school depending on the week, and by the luck of the draw tonight’s match has ended up on their campus. They always have at least one teacher on duty just to make sure students and property stay safe. Dan wasn’t exactly anyone’s first choice, what with his complete disinterest in any exercise whatsoever, but it’s flu season and their PE teacher, Greg, who usually attends these things is off sick. Everyone else claimed to be busy and because Dan is still technically new compared to the others, he reluctantly put up his hand to volunteer. As he breathes out a cloud of condensation and his fingers go numb from the cold, he kind of regrets that.

The floodlights brighten up the outdoor field and Dan watches half the players throw their hands in the air as the final buzzer sounds. _Finally,_ he thinks, as a pileup starts with the Greenbrook players and the losing team walk dejectedly back to their side. It doesn’t take long for them to clear the ground after a little cheering and singing and then the home team are heading to the changing rooms inside the gym. Dan oversees the visitors as they leave, making sure none of them take out their anger on any stray bins, and then cleans up some of the crap they’ve carelessly left on the concrete steps that double as seats. By the time the school grounds are empty, Dan’s watch is showing 9:03 and he figures that’s been more than enough time for the students to shower, grab their stuff, and go.

He heads up towards the gym, archaic set of keys jingling in his probably-frostbitten hands. As he expected, the gym is empty, but he’s been given strict instruction to check both changing rooms before locking up after the infamous incident of 2010. He knocks on the female room first, getting no reply to that or to his warnings of coming in, so he pushes open the door far enough to slide in his arm and switch off the light. There are no cries of protest, so he’s convinced it’s empty. Then he does the same to the males – knocks, calls, then opens the door – but this time he can hear the distinct sound of water running down the drain when the heavy wood creaks open.

‘Hello?’ he calls out, voice echoing off the tiled walls. ‘Is someone still in there?’

There’s no reply, just like there’s nothing after he says ‘I need to lock up’ and ‘okay, well, I’m coming in’, only the constant flow of water.

Dan sighs, muttering to himself about _water wastage_ and _no wonder the Earth is dying_ , and slips into the changing room. It’s immediately clear where the running water is coming from; it echoes loudly from one of the door-less shower cubicles that line the right wall of the room. Dan shakes his head, taking long strides towards the second-last cubicle where he can see the water pooling, but stops in his tracks when he gets close enough to see inside it. It’s not empty.

The boy has their – very toned, very hairless – back to him, their head bowed under the pressurised spray of water. Long fingers scrub soap suds from the mass of black hair atop their head, and the sweet-scented bubbles roll down pale skin to settle on the soft curve of their perky, little –

_Fuck_. He shouldn’t be looking, he doesn’t _want_ to look. He wants to turn around and apologise profusely and run away as fast as he can but his entire body freezes up. His eyes go wide and his mouth hangs open and he can’t bloody move because he knows that hair and those legs and that lovely –

Dan doesn’t realise the heavy ring of keys is slipping from his lax fingers until they hit the grated floor with am almighty clang. The sound startles even him, but he hopes to God the water rushing over Phil’s ears is enough to white it out. Of course, nothing with Phil Lester ever goes the way Dan hopes. He turns around to look, and Dan is seeing things he’s banned himself from thinking about for almost a year now. Dan’s heart is positively breaking through his chest, apparently trying to escape the confines of his ribcage, yet he still can’t _fucking move_.

‘Oh. Hi, Mr Howell,’ Phil says, far too nonchalant. ‘See something you like?’

And that’s enough to do it – suddenly, Dan’s limbs are responsive again and he’s almost slipping over in his haste to turn away, eyes clenching shut and hand clasping over them just to be sure.

‘I… _no._ Fuck – no – I wasn’t – I mean, I didn’t –‘

Dan can hear Phil chuckle as he stumbles over his desperate words. The rush of the shower ceases, and the room is far too quiet when Phil speaks again.

‘If I’d known you were going to be watching, I would have put on more of a show,’ he says.

Dan thinks he can hear the rustle of a towel, but he isn’t taking any chances. He keeps his eyes closed tight as he forces his dry mouth and heavy tongue to work again.

‘I wasn’t trying to watch you!’ he says, voice perhaps a little shrill. ‘I thought it was empty. I was locking up. I called out!’

‘I didn’t hear you,’ Phil says, disbelieving but not without jest.

‘I did, I swear to God. I wasn’t spying. I’m not a fucking _pervert_.’

‘Mr Howell,’ Phil says with a sigh. ‘Come on, let’s stop playing around.’

Phil’s fingers are damp but warm as they wrap around Dan’s wrist. They send near-on lethal voltages of electricity up Dan’s arm and his muscles succumb easily as Phil tugs his hand from his eyes. It’s horrifying, the power the kid has over him with a single touch. As childish as it feels, the one thing he can do to keep everything at bay – to pretend none of this is happening – is keep his eyes tightly shut, so that’s what he does.

‘I’ve seen the way you look at me. And I know _you_ know that _I_ know,’ Phil says, voice low and fingers still slippery against Dan’s burning skin. ‘So why are we even playing around anymore?’

‘I-I don’t look at you like anything,’ Dan stutters out.

‘Oh, really? So you haven’t been checking out my ass all year?’ Phil laughs breathlessly; Dan doesn’t trust his voice with this one, so he just shakes his head. ‘Well, that’s a shame…because I’ve been looking at yours.’

Dan’s breath hitches in his throat as Phil’s fingers skim down the side of his cheek. He turns his head to the side to break the contact, but each exhale afterwards still comes ragged.

‘Stop,’ he chokes. ‘You can’t…just stop.’

‘I think about you a lot, Mr Howell,’ Phil says. ‘About how your hair would feel between my fingers and how your lips would feel against mine _._ I think about it during class all the time. And you want to know what else I think about? Hmm?’

Dan’s body seizes as he feels the press of Phil’s flat palm against his upper thigh, dangerously close to his hardening dick.

‘I think about how your cock would taste,’ he whispers, and he’s so close that Dan can feel his warm breath ghost across his face, invading his senses and intoxicating his brain. ‘I think about you bent over your desk with my cock deep inside you. I think about coming inside you, making you beg to come too.’

A whine escapes Dan’s throat and he’s never wanted to run from anything more in his life. He wants to push away Phil’s wandering hands and high-tail it the fuck out of there, but he’s caught under whatever voodoo spell this kid has got on him.

‘C’mon, Mr Howell,’ Phil says, the lightest touch against his chin moving Dan’s head back to face him. ‘Open your eyes. Look at me.’

Dan does, but he wishes to God that he didn’t.

Phil’s got a towel wrapped around his waist, but it isn’t much better than nothing at all. It rides so low on his hips Dan can see his dark happy-trail and the beads of water that run through it, dripping from his wet locks and down the expanse of his torso. He’s close – too fucking close – with his blue eyes ablaze and his pale pink lips glossy. One hand is still on Dan’s thigh and the other is slowly melding itself around the soft curve of Dan’s jaw. He’s leaning in; it’s slow but its sure. Phil’s lips are barely a centimetre from Dan’s and he can feel the vibrations through his entire body when Phil speaks.

‘ _I want you_.’

Phil’s mouth is warm and firm against his own and Dan’s bones melt away to nothing. He inhales sharply through his nose and sways, as if his body is teetering on the edge of an icy precipice. He tries to keep his balance. Phil’s tongue brushes his lip. He falls in. His hands grip the sides of Phil’s head and he kisses him, hard and passionate. Phil’s tongue is in his mouth and his bottom lip is between Phil’s teeth and they’re breathing heavily into each other. Dan makes little noises in his throat and Phil reciprocates with deeper sounds. He’s spinning through the abyss and he’s dizzy, dizzy, until he hits solid ground.

‘Fuck!’ Dan cries, pushing Phil away so unexpectedly and with such force that he almost hits the floor.

‘Shit, what – Mr Howell, it’s okay,’ Phil says, reaching for Dan.

‘No,’ Dan says, shaking his head frantically. ‘No it’s not fucking okay, you’re a _student_ , Phil!’

‘So what?’

‘This is wrong. God, fuck, this is so _wrong_ ,’ Dan stresses, running a hand through his curls.

‘Who cares? I want you and you want me, who gives a _shit_ if I’m a student?’

‘You’re _seventeen_ ,’ Dan says, and he knows he’s getting hysterical but his head still feels like it’s spinning and _fuck, he fucked up_. ‘That’s not – you’re _underage_. I – Jesus fucking Christ, I kissed an underage student.’

‘Only for another three weeks!’ Phil tries to defend. ‘Not even a month and I’ll be eighteen. How does three weeks make a difference?’

‘I’m sorry, Phil. God, I’m so…I have to go.’

Dan turns on his heel, entirely disregarding Phil’s calls of his name, the forgotten keys, and everything else in the world, because he just kissed a fucking student.

 

*****

 

Dan does everything in his power, shy of quitting, to avoid Phil for as long as humanly possible. It works surprisingly well for a few weeks – he still has to teach him, of course, but he makes sure he keeps his sights veered just to the left whenever he has to answer one of his questions. Phil doesn’t push it, which honestly surprises Dan, and the absence of shameless flirting is so shocking it almost gives Dan whiplash. Nothing feels resolved, not in the slightest, but if there’s one thing Daniel Howell is good at, it’s repressing himself. Granted, it’s been a few years since that’s felt necessary but the talent never seems to be lost.

Four weeks pass and Dan starts to think that maybe it’s over. Whatever the hell _it_ was. Whatever disorientating feelings he has for Phil are still there, yes, but it’s much easier without him rubbing salt in his wounds. After the kiss, everything seems so straight-forward; whenever those unspeakable feelings sneak up on him all he has to think is _student_ or _seventeen_ and he sees all the reasons that it’s just not fucking worth it. He thinks maybe he’ll make it through the year without another colossal fuck-up and then Phil will graduate and he can forget it all. Not that there’s much to forget. _It was only a kiss_ , he tells himself, _it’s not like you touched him. It’s fine, everything’s going to be fine_.

 

*****

 

Dan takes a sip of his Solo as he watches the group of hormonal teenagers bump and grind on the dancefloor. He can almost smell the testosterone in the air. He doesn’t recall his own sixth form dance being this sexually fuelled, but then again perhaps that was because he was dancing with a girl all night. Not that there was anything wrong with her – she was a pretty redhead he met at his youth group a few years earlier – but by that point he’d realised his dick just wasn’t having a bar of it.

Greenbrook isn’t exactly the highest funded school in the region, so the dance is pretty low-budget and a tad tacky. It’s hosted in the gym, seeing as hiring a venue would have blown the small allowance they’d been given, and the decorations consist of balloons, party streamers, and some posters made by the art students. There’s only two kind-of crappy speakers and the “DJ” is just a pile of burnt CDs beside someone’s stereo. It’s not flashy in the slightest, but it’s nice; it has a carefree, homemade vibe that Dan’s dance hadn’t. It’s a compulsory night for both students and teachers and, considering it’s only a couple months off the end of fourth term, it’s probably one of the last times they’ll have the chance to talk with the senior students outside class. Dan spent a little while chatting to a group from his class – extremely nerdy, and more than likely the people he would have hung around had he been in their year – and did the rounds saying hello to the other teachers, before he stationed himself where he’s stood now – right beside the food. He takes another mini dim-sim, content to lean against the wall on his own and eat for most of the night. He chews the questionable meat and washes the oily aftertaste from his mouth with another sip of his soft drink, relaxing his always-tense shoulders and humming to the Halsey song the kids are dancing to. He’s not sure exactly when he zones out, but he’s pulled back to Earth when there’s suddenly another person beside him.

‘Hi.’

He startles a little, tensing right back up when he realises it’s Phil. He’s standing not even a half a meter away with his back pressed to the same wall and it’s not the closest they’ve ever been, but it’s still far too close. Dan’s mouth goes dry and the sip he takes does nothing to help, so he stares into the artificially coloured liquid instead.

‘Phil,’ he says, pausing to make sure his breathing remains steady. ‘I think it’s best if we don’t talk.’

‘Why not?’ Phil asks, and from the corner of his eye Dan sees him roll his athletic shoulders against the faded paint behind them.

‘You _know_ why not,’ Dan says, keeping his voice low.

There’s a moment of silence as the song changes and Phil sips from his own drink. When the beat picks back up, Phil does too.

‘You know, I had my birthday last week,’ he says casually. ‘Big party, loads of presents. It was great.’

‘Happy birthday for then,’ Dan says, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

‘Thanks,’ Phil says; there’s another beat of silence between them, then he’s offering Dan his cup. ‘Want some?’

Dan glances at the Coke in Phil’s cup, bubbles fizzing and popping like mad, and he thinks that’s probably what the contents of his stomach look like right now.

‘No thanks, I’ve got my own.’

‘Yeah, but mine’s got a little extra something,’ Phil says, swirling the liquid around in his cup.

‘You’re drinking _alcohol_?’ Dan stage-whispers.

He gives in and, against his better judgement, lets himself look at Phil. He’s wearing that trademark smirk that lights up his youthful face.

‘So what?’ Phil says, turning to face Dan. He leans his shoulder against the wall and looks him dead in the eye. ‘I’m eighteen. It’s perfectly legal.’

‘You’re on school grounds,’ Dan says. ‘It doesn’t matter how old you are, it’s not allowed.’

Dan holds Phil’s gaze for as long as he dares, before his eyes start to trail down his face and he hastily turns away.

‘What are you going to do, give me detention?’ Phil teases, boldly resting a hand on Dan’s arm and although there’s two thick layers of clothing between his skin and Phil’s he can still feel it burning into him.

‘I have to, um – I should go check on – something,’ Dan stutters, side-stepping so fast he almost loses what’s left of his drink; he doesn’t look back at Phil as he scurries towards nothing in particular.

 

*****

 

When the clock strikes eleven and everyone clears out, Dan stays behind to clean up a little. They have employed staff coming in the next day to do all the sweeping and mopping, but somebody needs to pack away all the chairs and take down the decorations. Greg – who’s a bit of a control freak and usually likes to pack up the gym himself – is still feeling a bit under the weather, and Dan manages to convince him to head home and let him take care of it. He’s younger, after all – not that it makes any difference, because Greg is most definitely fitter than him – and it’s not like he’s the one with a wife and kids waiting for him at home. As he carries chair after chair into the storage room he tells himself it’s a completely selfless act of kindness, and has absolutely nothing to do with him being terrified of Phil cornering him again if he sees him leaving.

By the time all the decorations are down and packed in a box to be reused the next year, it’s nearing midnight and Dan’s starting to feel the weight of tiredness creep into his bones. He turns off all the lights and unhooks the schools’ keys – the same pair that had miraculously made their way back to his desk a little under a month ago, after apparently locking up the gym by themselves –  from where Greg had hung them around the office doorhandle for him. Dan pulls the double doors shut behind him and locks them, thankful the outdoor lighting is still running on its timer. He’s about to power-walk down the shadowed alleyway that leads to the teachers parking lot when he notices a figure sitting on the cement with their back against the brick wall. His heart hammers at the shock of seeing another person when he expected to be entirely alone. It doesn’t slow in the slightest when he realises who it is.

‘About time,’ Phil says, clouded breath catching the weak light. ‘I’ve been freezing my ass off.’

‘What are you still doing here?’ Dan all but hisses; he’s moving to stand beside Phil when the dull gleam of metal clasped in his hand catches Dan’s eye. ‘Are you drinking from a bloody flask?’

‘Had to keep warm somehow,’ Phil defends, cheeks rosy from a mix of the bitter air and alcohol.

‘Dammit, Phil. I’m your teacher. I can’t just let you _do_ that.’

‘You’re not going to say anything,’ Phil says, sounding so sure of himself.

‘How do you know that?’

‘Because,’ he says, grinning as he holds out the flask. ‘You’re going to join me instead.’

It’s obvious what Dan should do. He should say no. He should tell Phil to head home and write him up a detention for drinking on school property. Maybe even a suspension. He doesn’t, though – he just stands there, fingers twitching against his thigh as he looks between Phil and the flask.

‘C’mon, Mr Howell,’ Phil says. ‘Just one drink.’

Dan’s brain is saying _run,_ but Phil’s lips are saying _stay_. He moves and he tells himself it’s to flee but he trips and falls back into that fucking precipice and finds himself sitting down on the cold ground. He can feel his hair catch in the grooves of the brick wall as he leans his head against it, and he can feel the warmth radiating from Phil’s body beside him. He doesn’t meet the boys eyes as he takes the flask and tips it back, the burn of straight whiskey hitting his throat. He coughs, handing it back.

‘That’s disgusting,’ he says, swallowing thickly.

‘Yeah,’ Phil agrees. ‘Tasted better mixed with Coke.’

‘I don’t think anything could make that taste good.’

‘I dunno,’ Phil says, and the pause that follows is so long Dan turns to look at him expectantly – Phil is looking right back. ‘It would probably taste good on you.’

Dan’s throat goes so dry that he’ll take anything that even resembles liquid. As he takes back the flask, Phil’s fingers brush against his and it feels like he’s being electrocuted. Dan pulls another swig of the whiskey, barely even grimacing at the taste because Phil’s eyes are locked on his and that seems to numb all other senses – especially his sense of reason. He doesn’t move away as Phil’s hand finds his face, long fingers spreading out across his cheek. The soft pad of his thumb runs along Dan’s full bottom lip, gathering up any remains of the alcohol, before he brings it to his own and sucks it off.

Dan can practically see the cogs working behind Phil’s eyes – he’s sure he’s thinking up something filthy or some kind of funny innuendo – but the surge that runs through Dan’s entire being is far too powerful. He tries to reason with himself, tires to repeat _student_ and _seventeen_ but one of those isn’t even true and the other doesn’t seem to matter anymore. He has no idea how the hell he’s supposed to control it, so he doesn’t. He drops the flask to the ground and fists his hands in Phil’s ruffled hair, letting the whiskey pour all over the concrete as he pulls Phil’s mouth to his own. He tastes like alcohol and cola and everything he shouldn’t and Dan kisses him like he’s been starving for the past four weeks. Phil’s large hand cups the back of his head and his tongue pushes into his mouth; Dan whines at the feeling, and anyone would think _he_ was the fucking teenager.

Phil’s free hand is running down the side of Dan’s sensitive neck. He gasps against Phil’s lips, head subconsciously tilting to the side to let those cold fingers trail against his skin. Any part of his body that wasn’t already covered in goose-bumps from the cold now feels like braille. Dan chokes on the little amount of air left in his lungs when Phil presses down against his pulse point. Phil pulls back from the kiss to look into Dan’s flushed face.

‘You like that,’ he states without question, running his fingers down his neck teasingly slow until they reach the collar of Dan’s shirt.

‘Uh-huh,’ Dan pants, eyelids fluttering as Phil’s fingers tug down his shirt and his lips find his neck.

He mouths at the sensitive skin, hot saliva cooling quickly in the night air and sending shivers through Dan’s body. Dan’s breathing gets heavier as he starts to bite and lick, and he lets out a strangled moan when Phil sucks a hickey right against his pulse.

‘Phil,’ he whispers, trembling hands moving to clutch at the front of his school jacket.

‘What is it?’ Phil mumbles against the bruise.

‘Let’s go.’

‘Where?’ Phil asks, pulling back to look at him, eyes flicking between Dan’s dilated pupils; Dan captures his mouth in another chaste kiss because it already feels like far too long since their lips have touched.

‘My car,’ he says, then tugs them both to their feet, long legs staggering and stiff in the cold.

Phil’s fingers don’t untwine from Dan’s own as he pulls him along the concrete path towards the parking lot. They’re both breathing heavily as they hurry towards the lone car. Dan fumbles to get his key from the front pocket of his stupidly tight jeans, fingers jittery with nerves and frost and mostly lust, and he’s almost got it in the keyhole when there’s arms snaking around his waist and lips back against his neck.

‘Phil,’ he chokes, head tipping back and hand nearly dropping the key. ‘Stop, Phil – I’m trying to –‘

‘How am I supposed to keep my fucking hands off you?’ he growls into Dan’s ear. ‘When I’ve had to look and not touch for so long.’

Somehow, by some miracle, Dan gets the car unlocked and he rips open the back door. He spins around, yanking Phil forward by his jacket and kissing him again. Their mouths don’t lose contact as they crawl into the backseat, Dan lying down against the leather seat and Phil hovering above him.

‘How the hell is it _colder_ in here?’ Phil mutters against him, body shivering.

‘Hold on,’ Dan says, pushing Phil back so he can sit up.

He leans around Phil, pulling the door shut before sliding his upper body between the two front seats to jam the key in the ignition. He puts the car on accessories, the dashboard lighting up and the heater roaring to life. Dan’s so distracted trying to turn up the heat that the slap against his ass takes him completely off-guard and the noise he makes is downright embarrassing. He flushes, hearing Phil snigger behind him, as his phone automatically reconnects to the Bluetooth system and picks up where his music left off that afternoon.

‘Arctic Monkeys?’ Phil muses as Dan settles back in his seat, the younger boy immediately shifting to lay back on top of him. ‘Of course you’d have great music taste, to go along with your great everything else.’

His eyes rake down Dan’s body as his hand slides up his thigh. Dan slots his fingers together behind Phil’s neck and pulls him down, kissing him hungrily as the music envelops them. Dan’s legs pull apart enough for Phil’s body to slide between them and he can feel the press of the footballers’ toned abdomen against his crotch. His cock stirs to life, knowing just how close those abs are to it. They kiss until Phil’s lips are back on his throat but there’s too much fabric and not enough skin, so he tugs on Dan’s jacket and t-shirt until they peel off his long arms and leave his torso completely exposed. Dan squirms as Phil’s teeth sink into his collarbone and he tugs at his black hair when he starts to suck. He leaves a trail of hickeys down Dan’s neck and across his sternum, like some kind of necklace of evidence that Dan will have to wear for days. By the time Phil finds his way back to his lips, Dan is trembling and rock hard.

‘God, you _really_ like that, don’t you?’ Phil smirks, pressing himself down harder against Dan’s crotch to confirm that, yes, even through the denim of his jeans, Phil can feel the aching erection he’s given him.

‘Shut it,’ Dan says, impatient and turned on and a little delirious. ‘Too many clothes.’

Phil strips off his own jacket and pulls his shirt over his head from the back. Dan’s eyes wander across Phil’s lovely chest, even paler in the soft light of his dashboard and the streetlamps outside. He trails his hands up his torso, feeling Phil’s breath catch as his thumbs rub across his nipples. Phil’s hands find the front of Dan’s jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, his hand not-so-accidently brushing across his clothed cock, making it twitch. It’s a little difficult getting them down his long legs in the cramped space of his backseat but his black boxer-briefs follow much easier, and then Dan is left naked, totally exposed, with his student looking at him like he wants to eat him whole.

‘Holy shit,’ Phil gushes, running his hand up Dan’s bare thigh, eyeing the hard cock pressed back against Dan’s lower stomach. ‘You look so good, Mr Howell.’

‘Don’t – _ah,_ ’ Dan gasps as Phil’s fingers ghost along the underside of his dick. ‘Don’t call me that. Not here.’

‘Would you prefer I called you sir?’ Phil grins, lowering his mouth to Dan’s chest and pressing soft kisses down to his bellybutton. ‘Please, sir, may I suck your cock?’

Dan’s eyes fall shut as Phil licks up the underside, before wrapping his fingers loosely around the base and standing it up. His tongue dances around the tip, slipping into his slit and lapping up the beads of pre-come, making Dan moan deep in his chest. Chuckling to himself, Phil wraps his lips around the head, sucks, and then sinks down. He takes the entirety of Dan’s length into his throat and hums happily, more than pleased with the heavy weight of his teacher’s cock on his tongue.

‘God, Phil,’ Dan whines, fingers threating through his black hair and holding tight, pushing him down a little faster as Phil starts to bob his head.

He picks up the pace, slathering Dan’s hot flesh in saliva and making the most obscene slurping noises that drive Dan fucking insane. It feels so good and he’s so turned on and he could come right now, right down Phil’s throat, but he refuses to let himself go this early in front of an eighteen-year-old. He yanks at Phil’s hair, not hard enough to hurt but just to get his point across. Phil pulls off with a _pop_ and looks up at Dan with pupils blown wide and lips glossy with spit.

‘Pants off,’ Dan says, pulling Phil up close enough to get the front of them undone and helping him push them off.

When his underwear come off, Dan has to concentrate on manually breathing. He saw him in the shower, sure, but this is different. He’s hard and thick and _long_ , maybe longer than anything Dan has had in his seven years of taking dick – well, excluding anything made out of plastic. Phil catches him staring and smirks, wrapping a loose fist around his cock and stroking himself slowly.

‘Was there something you wanted me to do with this, sir?’ he teases, and neither of them are really expecting it when Dan replies with

‘Fuck me.’

It throws Phil a little. His hips jerk forward and his eyes widen, and then he’s nodding, muttering ‘yeah, yeah, shit yeah’, and grabbing for the jacket he’d discarded on the floor.

‘You carry around condoms and lube?’ Dan asks as Phil unzips one of the pockets and pulls out just that.

‘Yeah, you don’t?’ Phil says, tearing the condom packet open and groaning softly as he rolls it down his length. ‘You’re a teacher, aren’t you supposed to be a role model for safe sex?’

‘Let’s pretend that’s what this is. Some kind of fucked up demonstration.’

‘Well, if you fuck anything like you teach IT, I’ll be learning a lot,’ Phil says, squeezing out some lube from the travel-sized bottle onto his fingers.

Dan spreads his legs, one foot hooking around the headrest on the backseat beside Phil, the other resting over the passenger seat. He exhales as Phil’s fingers creep up between his legs, running teasingly across his balls before slipping down between his ass cheeks. He rubs firmly across Dan’s hole, making his cock twitch and thighs tense.

‘Can go in with two,’ he says, eyes closing and head leaning back against the inside of the door. ‘Still half-good from last night.’

‘Last night?’ Phil asks and Dan doesn’t miss the twinge of jealousy in his voice. ‘Do you have...like a boyfriend, or something?’

‘Oh yeah,’ Dan laughs on an exhale, wriggling as Phil’s fingers continue to massage against him. ‘He’s purple and I keep him in my bottom draw.’

Phil snorts – actually snorts – and Dan’s about to laugh at him, but suddenly there’s two slick, long fingers pushing inside him and it comes out as a choked moan. Dan’s hips press down, encouraging Phil to press in deeper as he starts to finger-fuck him. He draws his fingers in and out of Dan’s body in long, slow thrusts, scissoring and stretching Dan’s tight muscles around them. It doesn’t take long until any slight discomfort is gone and Dan requests another. Three fingers has him moaning in earnest, because even though it burns it feels so, so good.

‘Fuck,’ Phil mumbles to himself, watching in awe as his fingers disappear inside Dan. ‘I’ve actually got my fingers inside you, fuck.’

He bends down to suck at Dan’s supple inner thigh and Dan whines, thrusting upwards on pure instinct.

‘I’m good,’ he says, waiting for Phil to remove his fingers before shifting his hips, using the leverage of his feet on the seats to hoist himself up a little.

Phil slathers his straining cock in another dose of lube and then he’s got the head of it pressed against Dan’s hole. Dan opens his eyes and Phil is looking straight at him, one hand balancing against the door beside Dan’s head and the other holding his cock in position. Dan feels him sink into him, and he can see the look of unadulterated pleasure wash over his pretty face.

‘Shit,’ Phil hisses, bottoming out, pressing every last inch inside Dan’s ass. ‘Mr Howell, sir, fuck, you feel so good.’

‘Dan,’ he gasps as Phil’s hips jerk, then start to move. ‘Call me Dan, please.’

‘Fuck, Dan,’ Phil groans, grabbing Dan’s hip with his free hand and fucking into him faster.

Dan’s breathing becomes laboured as Phil’s thrusts get harder and he’s pushing his ass down his length the best he can. For a while all he can hear is the slapping of skin on skin, their heavy breathing, and the soft sound of Alex Turner’s voice seeping from the speakers – and then Phil hits it, and his moans drown everything out.

‘ _Fuck,_ ’ he cries, hands wrapping around Phil, fingernails digging into his glistening back. ‘There, oh God. _There. Phil._ ’

Phil moans and presses his lips to Dan’s mouth, licking into it and pulling away every so often to listen to his pitchy _yeah, yeah, yes, oh God, yeah_ ’s. The head of Phil’s cock is slamming into his prostate with every thrust and it’s making him shake apart at the seams and it feels so good but it’s not _enough_. He needs a hand on his cock but he knows Phil needs his hands to balance himself and he can’t slide his own in the small gap between their bodies. His nails dig deeper into Phil’s back and drag down with the force of every thrust. He feels like he’s going to explode.

‘Stop, Phil – fuck – s-stop.’

‘God, Dan, no,’ he nearly sobs as he forces his hips to stop thrusting; Dan feels Phil’s cock twitch inside him and it makes his eyes roll back. ‘Please don’t back out now, fuck, you feel so good.’

‘No. Wanna – wanna ride you. Front seat,’ he pants and Phil is a lot more accepting of that idea.

Phil pulls out of Dan when he tells him to. Dan sits up, wincing slightly as he leans forward to pull the lever on the passenger seat. With a bit of difficulty but a lot of fucking motivation, Phil climbs onto it and pushes it backwards to lay flush against the back seat. Dan crawls into the front half of the car, swinging his leg over Phil and straddling his hips. He takes Phil’s cock by the base, feeling the hot burn of his flesh even through the latex, and lines himself back up. He sinks down, tossing his head back and moaning because this angle is even fucking better.

‘Oh my God,’ Phil pants, hips bucking up into Dan as he starts bouncing on his cock. ‘Fuck, sir, you fuck so good.’

Dan whines, his hands pressing on Phil’s toned chest and sinking his claws into the flawless flesh for purchase. He moves faster, slamming himself down on Phil’s cock and pleasuring that lovely spot inside himself. Once he’s found his rhythm one hand finds his own cock and he nearly sobs at how good it feels to be touched. He hadn’t realised he’s been leaking all over himself and Phil and the car and he’s so close to coming now. His body is starting to shake and seize up and he can’t really push himself up when he’s _this fucking close_ so he just kind of grinds his hips and that’s good. Phil’s dick is constantly rubbing against his prostate and it’s stimulating the fuck out of Phil’s most sensitive spot and he can hear the younger boy gasping and feel his hips jerking.

‘I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming,’ Phil cries, hands gripping at Dan’s biceps so tightly it’s surely adding to his collection of bruises. ‘Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.’

Phil rides out his orgasm buried inside Dan. Dan keeps using his sensitive cock to pleasure himself and he’s _so close, so close_.

‘Come on me,’ he hears Phil say, and he opens his eyes to see the boy laid out beneath him; cheeks flushed, hair mussed, looking deliciously fucked out. ‘Please, sir. Please, come on me.’

And who is Dan to deny a student when they ask so nicely? He comes hard, muscles clenching up and holding Phil pressed up against his spot as he spurts come all up the boys pretty pale chest. Phil bites his lip, watching Dan fall apart, moaning and shaking and pressing his free hand onto the steamy side window. Some hits Phil’s chin and he sticks out his tongue, lapping it up and smacking his lips like a fucking porn star.

‘Holy shit,’ Dan gasps, hips finally slowing to a stop; his body lurches forward and he catches himself with his hands on either side of Phil’s shoulders.

‘Yeah,’ Phil agrees with a breathless laugh, helping Dan pull off his softening dick.

Dan doesn’t have the energy to dress just yet, so he just lays down on top of Phil, not even caring that he’s getting his own come all over himself. Phil doesn’t complain; he just pulls off the condom and ties it, dropping it to the floor before wrapping an arm loosely around Dan’s waist. They’re both sweating and pressed so tightly together and all Dan can think about is how good Phil’s taut body feels under his much softer one. He has an inkling Phil may be thinking the same, judging by the way his large hand runs over each and every curve he can reach.

‘You know,’ Phil says, breath ruffling Dan’s matted curls, ‘if that’s what I’d get for a perfect score, I’d be studying a lot harder for exams right now. Maybe next time you can quiz me during and only let me come if I get it all right.’

Dan lifts up off Phil’s chest to look at him. Phil smiles at him cheekily with tired eyes, but it fades when he sees the look on Dan’s face.

‘Phil,’ he says, brown eyes flicking away. ‘We can’t…not again.’

‘Oh,’ Phil says, the absence of his usual self-assured and cocky tone leaving an emptiness in the air. ‘I thought…’

‘I’m your teacher. This – this can’t happen again.’

‘But…I’m legal. Even seventeen was legal. I looked it up.’

‘I know, but I’m your _teacher_ , Phil. I could get in so much trouble for this. I could lose my job and nobody would hire me after that and you…you could get hurt.’

‘What about after exams?’ Phil says; Dan can’t tell if it’s excitedly or desperately. ‘Once I graduate it won’t be a problem anymore, right? So if you just wait for me, just for a few months –‘

‘Shh,’  Dan hushes, pressing his finger to Phil’s lips; he quietens down immediately. ‘Let’s not talk about this right now, okay? I can drive you home and you can get some sleep. I’ll get you your clothes.’

‘Wait,’ Phil says, grabbing Dan by the wrist to stop him. ‘Can I just…just five more minutes?’

Dan smiles softly, a little sadly, and brushes Phil’s damp fringe from his forehead. He ducks down and kisses him, sweet but far too short.

‘Yeah,’ he whispers. ‘Five minutes. I’m yours for five minutes.’

He nestles back down on Phil’s chest, closing his eyes and letting himself savour the moment with every fibre of his being. He catalogues every last detail into his brain – the texture of Phil’s skin, the taste of his mouth, the smell of their sex. He exhales heavily, listening to the sound of Phil’s beating heart in one ear and the soft music in the other.

_Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Ba-boom._

_I guess what I'm trying to say is I need the deep end; keep imagining meeting, wished away entire lifetimes_

_Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Ba-boom._

_Unfair we're not somewhere misbehaving for days, great escape lost track of time and space_

_Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Ba-boom._

Dan doesn’t know which to hum along to.


End file.
